


Nott Unlike Frumpkin

by chaya



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Puns I will not apologize for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: Someone asked for Nott acting catlike. Small silly drabble ahoy!





	Nott Unlike Frumpkin

Jester elbows Caleb, and Caleb almost falls out of his chair.

“Jeez, you need to eat more.”

“I need to eat more, I need to wash my face, mein Gott, it is like having an old grandmother follow me around.” He rubs his side. “Why did you do that?”

“Because-” And Jester points over to the side of the room, where Nott is on top of her bedroll, passed out, body arced strangely with one leg and one arm reaching in separate directions. “Is she okay?”

“Hn?” Caleb leans back from his spot at the card table until he can see. “Oh! Good, she finally fell asleep.” He gestures to the four people seated. “I was a little worried we were too loud.”

Beau sets her hand down flat and leans around Fjord, squinting a moment at the goblin at the corner. “No,” she says, nodding to Jester, “she _does_ look like someone that fell off a cliff and is dead at the bottom.”

“She is fine,” Caleb murmurs serenely. “She sleeps that way when she is comfortable.”

**

They travel by boat and it turns out that Nott doesn’t get seasick. This is great, but it means she stands out on the prow of the boat to enjoy the view, and the splash as the boat takes a wave at a bad angle leads to… disappointment.

“You look like you took a dip,” Molly says sympathetically, and takes his coat off for her to dry herself with.

Nott grabs it and almost instantly disappears under it, tiny hands reaching out to rub the fabric against her hair and sides. “ _I hate water,_ ” she says, for what is not the first or last time.

**

Yasha taps Fjord’s shoulder, and Fjord jumps a moment before recognizing her and letting out a breath. “Time to switch?”

“Yes, I think so.” She gestures to the horizon, where the faint beginnings of color are starting to develop. “Go get some rest.”

“Thanks.” He lumbers to his feet, stretching out and looking out over the bedrolls. He frowns, counts again, and looks to Yasha. “We short one?”

Yasha points over to Caleb. It’s hard to tell when the man is so shabby even when he’s standing up, but when Fjord focuses he can see an extra sort of lump of fabric on top. The small bundle is a second bed roll, wrapped around something so small it can only be a goblin.

“She hasn’t done that in a while,” Fjord remarks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s a bit cold lately.”

“Guess you’re right.”


End file.
